


Hold Me Tight (or Don't)

by xForEverythingElse (PrimaryScavQueen)



Category: Roswell: New Mexico (TV)
Genre: F/M, M/M, Post "Pilot", Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-16
Updated: 2019-01-16
Packaged: 2019-10-11 06:39:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,106
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17441828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrimaryScavQueen/pseuds/xForEverythingElse
Summary: Michael thinks about Alex, about that kiss





	Hold Me Tight (or Don't)

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, ect, are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.
> 
> Author's Note: This is unbeta-ed so all mistakes are mine. Please forgive them. Also with only the first episode having aired, I'm obviously taking liberties with the characters and such. It's also my belief (until otherwise stated) that everyone's sexuality is fluid.

He could still taste Alex’s lips on his. It had been hours but Michael could still remember every second of that kiss with crystal clear clarity that rang sharply in his bones.

 

Running a hand absently through his curls heedless of way it sent the corkscrews haywire, Michael replayed the moment, reliving it again. Finding Alex alone in the storage room, staring at a picture of his younger self that was projected, larger than life, on the cement wall. Smiling, carefree, happy. Michael hadn’t missed the flash of metal where Alex’s calf should have been as he adjusted the boot that encased the prosthetic. Nor did he miss the look on Alex’s face as he stared at the picture.

 

“Nostalgia’s a bitch, huh?” Michael revealed himself from his spot in the doorway, drawing Alex’s attention away from the past.

 

But not all the way out of it, apparently.

 

“I thought for sure when I came back from Iraq, you would be long gone.” Alex declared, facing him. The look on his face was almost resigned.

 

“Is that what you want?” Michael pushed off the door frame, crossed the distance between them. The physical distance anyways; there had been a time he’d been able to read Alex’s emotions. That time was long gone. As was the boy he remembered. The Alex before him wasn’t shiny and new. He was tarnished. Broken.

 

Resilient, though. It poured from him, bright and thick. Michael could almost taste it on his tongue like tangy lemon candy.

 

“We’re not kids anymore.” Alex replied, watching him warily the closer he got, “What I want doesn’t matter.”

 

Michael’s heart pounded harder with each step. He had thought of Alex often the past ten years; hell, spent more than a few nights chasing the ghost of memories he left behind. He’d never found anyone that understood him like Alex had. His gaze lifted at that last sentence, the words against his heart like a knife. _What I want doesn’t matter._

 

Fuck that. Fuck everything. Michael didn’t want to hear anything else. He looked up at Alex with every intention of telling him to grow the fuck up and take charge of his damn life; more importantly to _enjoy_ his life. But the words died on his tongue when he found Alex looking at him. Alex’s dark eyes were full of longing. A longing Michael knew all too well; it resonated in his chest like an ache.

 

Michael reached up, caught the back of Alex’s neck and swiftly closed the space between them. Caught Alex’s lips with his, kissing him hard and desperate. Alex’s lips moved under his, just as needy. Thank Christ; he wasn’t the only one feeling it. Alex’s free hand ran over his chest, gripped Michael’s arm tight, digging into his jacket. There would be bruises on his skin later but Michael didn’t give a shit.

  
Ten fucking years.

 

He hadn’t been kissed like this in ten fucking years.

 

Alex broke the kiss, chest heaving as he caught his breath. Michael rested his forehead against his, unable to pull himself away. He slid his hand from around the back of Alex’s neck and cupped his jaw, thumb brushing along the slight stubble growing on his cheek. Brought his other hand up, framing Alex’s face. He couldn’t stop touching him; Alex’s skin was so warm, soft. Memories stirred; late nights, clandestine meetings. Happier times. He didn’t want the moment to end.

 

“I can’t.” Alex whispered, shaking his head slowly, “I can’t do this.”

 

“Fuck, don’t do this to me again.” Michael let out a groan; he’d heard this once before. He had hated it then too. He pulled away and the distance returned—a stark reminder that nothing ever fucking changed in Roswell, New Mexico.

 

“Michael—“ Alex pleaded.

 

Nope. They’d been down this road and it wasn’t one he wanted to tread again. Michael held up his hands. “Call me when you’re ready to stop pretending that I don’t mean anything to you.” He pivoted on his heel, striding to the door.

 

His jaded heart kept him from looking back.

 

Now he was sitting alone in the desert, looking out at the stars as he laid on the hood of his truck. In his pocket, his phone vibrated. He pulled it out and looked at the screen. It was Maria.

 

**Party has moved to Wild Pony. You should be here.**

Michael sighed. Well, if there was one person that could get his mind of Alex, it was Maria. **On my way.**

 

 

 

The bar parking lot was nearly full. After managing to snag the last spot, Michael headed inside and found the bar filled with familiar faces. Except for one…

 

Maria was out from behind the bar and dancing with Liz on the makeshift dance floor. Max was seated at the bar, looking the picture of relaxed as he watched Liz shake her ass. The girl could dance, he could give her that. Maria snagged his shirt sleeve as he attempted to beeline for the empty chair besides Max. Her other arm slung easily around his neck as she pressed her body against his in a tight hug.

 

“Finally!” She trilled as she began to move and pull him into a dance. Her body moved against his and he followed smoothly; she had that talent.

 

He dropped a kiss to her temple. “You’re lucky it was you who asked.”

 

Dark eyes met his and her full lips tilted down into a slight frown. “Whose got your panties in a twist?” She studied him for a second before a light sparked her irises, “Ahhh, I bet I know who.”

 

There was a certainty in her voice that made him wonder if her psychic abilities weren’t as bogus as he thought. Then he shoved that away. She knew how he felt about Alex. She was the only one that did.

 

“I don’t want to talk about it.” Michael shook his head and took the opportunity to spin her away then pulled her back, sliding his arm around her back and dipping her, “I’m here to have fun because my friend asked.”

 

“Aww.” She drawled when she unbowed her back, “I’m your friend?”

 

Sometimes she was more than that. But today, he didn’t need the more part.

 

“Yes. Lucky you.” Michael replied and took a step back, “I’m getting a drink.”

 

“Thanks for the dance, Mikey.” Maria gave him a smile and whirled, arms lifting to the air, her attention focusing back on Liz.

 

Feeling dismissed, amusement took the place of melancholy and he strolled to the bar, ready to forget about Alex, just for a little while.


End file.
